Wrong Kind of Hentai
by kayue
Summary: Ryoma x Fuji...sort of... Ryoma's father finds some very interesting pictures.
1. Wrong Kind of Hentai

**Wrong Kind of Hentai**

Rating: PG Genre:  
Yaoi, humor  
Pairing/Characters: Ryoma, Nanjiroh & family

This is a continuation of a fic called "Possibilities" that I wrote for a LiveJournal community. Unfortunately there's too much smut in it for FFnet.   
(You can find the original in my LJ or on same user name)

Basically, this is what happens the day after Ryoma and Fuji have a _very interesting_ tryst...

The whole family knew that Echizen Najiroh was a _hentai_. His collection of _ecchi_ full of scantily clad young girls was impressive. But since he was strictly 'all look and no touch', his wife tolerated it. And his niece and son followed suit, ignoring the creepy chuckles that sometimes emerged from the 'man of the house' while reading his 'newspaper'.

What wasn't so tolerable was Nanjiroh's unnatural obsession with his young son's love life. For his 13th birthday, Ryoma received a "Buxom Babes of the World" calendar from his father. Strange magazines began to show up in his room along with his "Pro Tennis Weekly". Odd pictures were tucked into his schoolbooks.

Ryoma still turned red whenever someone mentioned the time when he stood up to read before his class and a _shunga_ (erotic print) fell out of his classical Japanese literature textbook.

Even his mail was scrutinized. Every letter or note he received was taken to be a love letter from some admiring young girl. Then Ryoma was declared to be 'just like his old man' by his father..

So Nanjiroh was delighted when Ryoma started 'staying out late for practice' or 'studying overnight at a friend's house'. He started following his son, only to be disappointed when Ryoma actually was practicing tennis or visiting a schoolmate's house.

Still Ryoma sometimes returned home in a crumpled uniform, lethargic, refusing to play a game of tennis with his father. He'd retreat up to his room, only reappearing at dinner time. When Nanjiroh pointed this out to his wife, he was told not to be silly.

The day after Ryoma returned from 'lessons with a _sempai_' looking particularily sloe-eyed, Nanjiroh decided to take action. While Ryoma was still at school, and his wife and niece were out shopping, Nanjiroh searched his son's room. With his naturally sneaky mind, he easily found Ryoma's hiding spot beneath one of the _tatami's_ on the floor.

_"Mada, mada, da ne,"_, Nanjiroh muttered happily. In the hole were a few childish treasures… a cat's toy, an old tennis ball, half a roll of blue grip tape, and a roll of undeveloped film!. "Eureka!", he crowed. Grinning ear to ear, he tucked the film in the sleeve of his robe, and trotted downstairs.

_There must a one-hour-photo place nearby_

_--- _

Echizen Nanjiroh missed the strange look the counter girl gave him when he picked up the photos. He raced his bike home, hopeful that there would be shots of his son's girlfriend, or pictures from Ryoma's recent visit to the beach. Candid shots of young girls in swimsuits were almost as good as his magazines. Back at his home/temple, he took his new package to his favorite resting spot on top of the hill beneath the big temple bell. With a happy sigh he lay back to look at the photos. Time to see what his _shounen_ had been up to.

The first few photos were disappointingly normal, if well done, snapshots of the Seigaku tennis team. "Good form," Nanjiroh muttered at one picture. "Needs to tighten up his stance," at another. But he wasn't looking to become the team's new trainer. Then shots of Ryoma at practice appeared. "So the girlfriend took these," he muttered unhappily. Still, there might be shots of them together. There had to be _some_ reason that Ryoma had hid the film.

Then came pictures of Ryoma taking off his shirt, then another of him stepping into the shower with his back to the photographer. Then one of Ryoma stepping OUT of the shower, naked and annoyed, reaching for the camera. "Ehh, so the girlfriend has a kink," Nanjiroh smirked. Probably an older woman. Eagerly he flipped to the next shot.

"Oh-HO!" This photograph was clearly taken by another person. The shot was blurry and out of focus, but Nanjiroh could make out the short, sweat-soaked light-brown hair, the tightly closed eyes, the slightly parted lips, and the flushed cheeks on the face of the model. Clearly something very interesting had just happened. "Boy is just like his old man," Nanjiroh chortled happily, turning to the next picture.

This one was a taken from further back and even fuzzier than the last. Nanjiroh pulled the photo to his nose in an effort to make out the details. The same model slumped in a chair, head thrown back, arms tied to a chair with some sort of blue rope. His pale skin artfully contrasting with opened black uniform…. Wait a minute, _HIS? _

"_NANI? _" Nanjiroh bolted upright.

Nanjiroh's head smacked the old temple bell with a soft bong. He swore though the pain and examined the photograph with watery eyes. Yes, that was definitely a BOY strapped to the chair. One that had obviously just had a very good time.

Shakily he fumbled to look at the last photograph. Same boy, same chair, more of that blue stuff was now twisted around his head and neck, criss-crossing his chest, and wrapped around his… Nanjiroh discovered he that could still blush.

He forced himself to re-examine the picture, trying ignoring the rise in his own pants. Echizen Nanjiroh didn't swing that way, he told himself sternly. Although his son obviously played for a different team.

In the photo the boy had lost his trousers and the blue (ribbon, maybe?) had twisted its way down his right leg to his toes. "What IS that stuff," Nanjiroh wondered aloud. Then he remembered the grip tape in Ryoma's stash. He winced and squeezed his knees together.

_'The boy has obviously outstripped the father in terms of hentai-ness_,' Nanjiroh thought shakily as he tottered back down the hill.

---

"I'm home." Ryoma kicked off his shoes then picked up a meowing Karupin with his right hand and his tennis racquet with his left. '_Maybe I'll challenge the old man to a match after I change_', he thought as he reached the door to his room.

"**_OYAJI!" _**The thunderous shout was followed by the furious pounding of feet. Ryoma burst into the living room wielding his racquet like a katana. "What did you do with my stuff, you dirty old man!"

Nanjiroh grabbed his own racquet as he sprung to his feet. It was useless to deny the tangle of blue tape on the floor and the most incriminating photographs in his hand. "Who're you calling dirty, eh _shounen_?" he cried, waving the photos in his son's face.

"You **developed **them!" Ryoma's screech blended with that of Karupin's. He dropped the wiggling Himalaya and made a grab for the photos. The offended cat streaked for the door almost knocking Nanjiroh off his feet as struggled to hold the pictures over his head with one hand and fend off his outraged son with the other. "Give me those. They're **MINE!**"

"Oh no, you don't," yelled Nanjiroh, using his greater height to keep the photos out of Ryoma's reach. "Is this what I taught you?"

"The only thing you taught me was tennis," growled Ryoma as he gripped his racquet with both hands preparing to backhand his father into the next century.

"What is going on in here?" the voice froze both men in their tracks. "We could hear the shouting from the street." Ryoma's mother and cousin entered the room and laid the bags on a table. The photos slipped out of Nanjiroh's weakened grasp and drifted to the floor.

Ryoma's cousin Nanako picked one up, glancing at it curiously. She squeaked and dropped it. Turning beet red she fled the room with a trembling, _"Sumimasen"_. Ryoma felt his own face flush.

"Just look what your son's been up to!" Nanjiroh declared, grabbing the fallen pictures and thrusting them into the hands of Ryoma's bemused mother.

Ryoma turned even redder as he hunched up his shoulders, waiting for the axe to fall.

The room filled with a tense silence as Ryoma's mother examined the pictures. In the quiet, Karupin re-emerged and began playing with the tangle of blue tape. Without comment his mother looked from purring cat on the floor, to Ryoma, then back to the pictures. She blushed slightly.

Ryoma's shoulders inched even higher as this heart thundered in his ears. Vaguely he wondered if teenagers could suffer heart attacks.

Finally she sighed, and said softly. "Well, at least I won't have to worry about anyone calling me _Obaasan_"

"_Nani? _" asked his father incredulously. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Well, it's really none of our business," came the calm reply. "As long as Ryoma's happy. You are happy, aren't you Ryoma?" His mother asked as she handed the pictures to Ryoma.

"_H-hai_," Ryoma stuttered. Although this wasn't the way he'd thought to come out to his mother, it was much easier than he'd hoped it would be. He didn't really care what the old man thought. He relaxed and felt his lips begin to curl up into a familiar smirk.

His perfectly brilliant mother continued... "And this is no worse than some of the hijinkx that you used to get up to, is it Nanjiroh? I've had several talks with Ryuuzaki-_sensei_, you know," she finished pointedly.

Nanjiroh re-discovered blushing. "Well, maybe he'll grow out it. I did," he grumbled.

'_Not likely_', thought Ryoma. But he only held out his hand to his father and demanded, "The rest of them."

"There are more?" asked his mother faintly.

"Just regular photos," Ryoma assured her hastily. Nanjiroh didn't bother to contradict his son. If those three photographs hadn't bothered his wife, nothing would. Morosely, he reached into the pocket of his robe and gave his son the package of pictures. "And the negatives." He reached in again and handed over a second packet.

Ryoma didn't even bother to hide his victorious smile as he picked up his entangled cat. "_Che_ Karupin. It's going to take some time to get you out of this." He mock scolded as he went up stairs.

Nanjiroh tried to get in the last word, "Well, at least the brat was on top."

"_Mada, mada, ouou _" floated down the reply. _(Not always)_

_--- _****

Postscript: _It runs in the family_

While cleaning, Nanako found the package of duplicate prints that Najiroh had conveniently 'forgotten' to give to Ryoma. She kept them.

Author's notes: Please excuse the mock-Japanese. I'm working from a dictionary here.  
As always, comments & criticism greatly appreciated.


	2. Bad Equation

Title: Bad Equation

Rating: PG Genre: Shounen-ai Pairing/Characters: Ryoma & Fuji, Inui

Summary: Another consequence of Ryoma & Fuji's tryst.

Inui *knew* his data on Fuji Shusuke was incomplete. The tensai rarely revealed all of himself to anyone. But he could make certain calculations based on the actions of his other teammates whose data he *did* have.

For instance, he could deduce that Fuji and Echizen Ryoma had a certain relationship based on the way the younger player pulled his cap down over his face when Fuji touched his shoulder. Or the way Echizen sliced a particularily burning shot in order to try to beat his older teammate on the court. Yes, it was clear the F(Y)R(X).

Then something changed the day that Fuji came to practice wearing two wristbands rather than one.

Of course Inui noticed this at once. Such an event was noteworthy. His glasses glistened in the sunlight as he hurried over to talk to Fuji.

Fuji, Inui pointed at the wristbands with his pencil. Out of the corner his eye he saw Echizen, who was getting ready for a match, blush and lower his head further under his cap. Hmm, he thought silently, as he scribbled a quick note to himself.

Oh, these? Fuji laughed, lifting his hands. I just thought I d try something different. Suddenly his posture stiffened and his eyes widened to reveal slices of bright blue.

Looking over his shoulder, all Inui could see was Echizen. The younger boy was just sitting on a bench, wrapping the handle of racket with black grip tape.

Excuse me, Fuji sauntered over to his kouhai but something in his posture was more than casual as he sat down next to the boy. Echizen just slid a look sideways at Fuji out of sly golden eyes, and continued wrapping.

Hmm. Inui thought, nibbling on the end of his pencil. The last time that Fuji wore two wristbands to practice was back when he was a first year

*SNAP* Inui bit the pencil in two. He felt like the time he had accidentally mixed Royal Purple and Deluxe Green juice together and drank it.

He spit the end of the pencil out of his mouth, feeling a blush rising into his own cheeks. With the stub he wrote down to himself R(Y)=F(X)?! 


	3. Birthday Gift

Title: Birthday Gift

Rating: PG Genre: Shounen-ai Pairing/Characters: Ryoma & Fuji, et al

Summary: A ficlet written on Tezuka's birthday, many years ago ===

Is it cheating or is it sharing? Fuji s seemingly random question came as the Seigaku regulars were waiting for their turns while their Captain served practice balls to Kawamura.

What was that? Oishi ever concerned, asked. Inui paused in his notetaking to stare down at Fuji.

Fuji s eyes never left Tezuka as he leaned back on the bench where he was sitting next to Ryoma, who was adjusting his racquet.

Suppose someone gave me a gift, say a cactus. The others rolled their eyes at that. They all knew of Fuji s obsession with the prickly plants. He ignored them and continued. One that I prized highly. And someone else that I admired greatly also desired that gift. Would you consider it cheating if I lent out that gift, or sharing?

Sharing, of course, declared Momoshiro, ever willing to spread the joy.

Cheating, hissed Kaido. What if the person who gave you the gift found you carelessly giving it away? The two sneered at each other.

How can you share a cactus? wondered Eiji.

What do you think, Echizen? asked Fuji seriously, turning to look at the boy beside him.

Ryoma lifted his capped head to stare at Shusuke, gold eyes met blue. I think, he began slowly. If all parties knew about it, that it could be considered sharing.

Fuji leaned back again. That s what I think too. They shared a small smile.

Kawamura came off the court perspiring heavily. You re up, Echizen-kun.

Hai, Ryoma tugged down his hat and went to face his buchou.

Happy Birthday, Tezuka, murmured Fuji. 


End file.
